Crossroads
by Angelamermaid
Summary: Parentverse story. Season 5 Owen has choices to make that will significantly alter his future.
1. Chapter 1

_In the Now_

Cristina unlocked her office door and then entered, throwing her coat over a chair. She pulled her laptop out of her briefcase, and plugged it onto the docking station by her monitors.

"Knock, knock." Nathan Riggs stood in the doorway, already dressed in scrubs. "I've just heard from UNOS. Mrs Beatty is getting a new heart today!"

"Good." Cristina nodded briskly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." She started clicking on apps. "I'll start rearranging today's surgeries. Who do you want to scrub in with you?"

"I thought you'd want to take the lead, she's your patient ..." Nathan noticed her stiff posture and how she wasn't making eye contact. "Are you mad at me?"

"What?" Cristina turned around and sighed. "How's your face?"

"Tender." Nathan pointed to the bruise on his jaw. "Owen throws a mean punch."

"And he's gotten himself suspended for a week, which he deserves." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm not mad at you, Nathan. I'm frustrated at him. We got into a huge fight last night and I made him sleep in the guest room. He's still outraged that I hired you without doing a full reference check like I was

supposed to know that you were _the_ Nathan who was dating Megan..."

"You hired me because you were recovering from an emergency C-section, and I never would have accepted if I had known Owen works here and would react so ... " He shrugged. "I wasn't trying to antagonize him. It was the first time that I'd seen Evelyn in years. And she was happy to see me."

She nodded. "Was Owen this uptight as a kid?"

Nathan chuckled. "It was his father. Malcolm set extremely high standards for everyone and Owen wanted to please him so very much. After he died ... Owen took on the burden of being the man of the family, before he was even ten years old."

Cristina looked down at the floor. "I think he's losing his mind. You wouldn't believe what he did this morning."

"Hey." Nathan's voice was soft. "It's grief. I know that his feelings mirror how much he misses Megan. I wish he'd find better ways of dealing with it, mind you."

Nathan's pager beeped and he looked at it. "The transplant team is on their way to Baylor in Dallas. We've got to tell our patient today is her lucky day."

"You start gathering the family ... and I'll join you in her room." Cristina waved him away. "I have a phone call to make."

_In the Past_

It was after midnight when Owen entered his apartment. He pulled off his jacket in the dim light. Out of habit, he hung it up.

Dazed, he ran his fingers through his hair. In the last 24 hours, he'd drifted off to sleep in Cristina's bed. He woke up to find his hands around her neck. She said she was okay but she wasn't. He was shattered. They went to work.

He swallowed, hard. They had made love. Tender and exquisite love. He had shown her that he could be gentle, that his hands could tenderly elicit the sweetest highs. His lips had praised every inch of her silky skin. Just a few hours ago his arms were around her and he was drifting off to sleep, the scent of her hair filling his nostrils as their bodies began to cool.

And then it all fell apart. Humbled and broken, he approached Derek and accepted his offer to help. They had put together a tentative plan and then he had an MRI. Going into the tube had drained the last bit of energy in him.

Owen reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card for a Dr. Wyatt. He was supposed to call her in the morning and book an appointment.

Wearily, he hung his head. This is what his life had come to. Standing in a dark and lonely apartment, clutching the business card of a therapist. His mother was surely asleep, ten miles away, not knowing he was so close. Everyone who knew him in the before was gone. His father's life ended too soon. His sister disappeared on a helicopter ... something about that made his brain itch. Nathan was dead to him and his Army friends were still in the desert. His surviving friends.

Cristina ... was scared of his inner demons ... as she should be. Sighing, Owen went into his bedroom and placed the card on his nightstand. He plugged in his cell phone, then undressed and slid in between his sheets. He laid there, blinking, until exhaustion finally won and he fell asleep.

_Moving Forward_

Asleep in his apartment, Owen tossed and turned. Explosions were going off in his dreams. He kept running for safety while shards of metal and body parts flew through the air. There was nowhere that he could hide. There was no safe place. He crouched down, eyes shut tight, and waited for death.

Gradually the sounds subsided. Tentatively, he opened his eyes and sat up. He was in his apartment, in his bed, but the room was filled with grey fog. And his father was standing by the bed, dressed in ghostly scrubs.

"Hello, son." Malcolm extended a hand. "I want to show you something."

Speechless, Owen got out of bed and stood next to his father. He looked at the bed and he was still sleeping there. Dr. Wyatt's business card was still on the nightstand.

"This will make sense later." Malcolm turned away and started walking. They left the apartment and went downstairs into the cold night. The grey fog surrounded them.

"Where are we going?" Owen asked.

"We're exploring a few paths."

"Oh."

They walked on. Occasionally, the fog would thin and Owen could make out a familiar building or landmark.

"If I had the chance, I would do everything differently," Malcolm said. "You wouldn't have worked so hard to get my approval."

Surprised, Owen was silent.

They passed an alley and the fog thinned. Owen could see figures moving. They were running away from a body lying on the dirty cement.

Concerned, Owen walked closer. He saw a man, lying face down. A worn hat covered his head and his clothing was filthy.

Owen wrinkled his nose. The man smelled of stale beer. That didn't stop him from reaching down and grabbing the man's shoulder. He flipped him over, then jumped back with horror. The man on the ground was himself, older and grizzled. And dead. Blood was oozing out of his nose and one hand clutched an empty bottle.

He looked up at Malcolm. His father said, "Do you choose this path?"

"No!" Owen backed away from the dead him, and followed Malcolm back into the fog. They continued to walk through Seattle. It was like they were crossing miles in minutes.

"You set high standards," Owen said. "But I know it was because you wanted me to succeed to the best of my abilities."

"I could have done it in a different way."

They passed by Cristina's apartment building. There he was again, shouting up at her window as two police officers struggled to put him into the back of a squad car. His hands were restrained behind his back. Meredith was standing on the sidewalk, screaming something about a restraining order. Callie was weeping on the front steps and Arizona was trying to comfort her.

Malcolm turned to him. "Do you choose this path?"

Owen was appalled. "No."

"Then let's keep walking."So they did.

His ghostly father spoke again. "My father never learned to manage his temper, so I never learned that either, and so I wasn't able to teach you. All three of us served in wartime and all three of us suffered for it."

Owen's thoughts whirled. How he had longed for his father's guidance as he grew up. He couldn't remember his father being this open and honest while he was still alive.

Next was Seattle Grace. Owen saw himself leave through the front doors, wearing a suit and tie.

"Hey Chief!" Someone shouted. "Thank your wife for the banana bread!"

"Banana bread'?" Owen was incredulous. "Cristina _bakes_?"

Unexpectedly, his father chuckled. "She does not."

"So ... this is my future? I'm the Chief of Surgery? And I'm married to someone who isn't Cristina?"

His ghostly father gazed at him. "It could happen."

Owen shook his head and walked back into the fog.

Night turned to day and the fog lifted. They were walking in a residential area. Owen knew this neighborhood. Most of the houses had been built before World War II.

Malcolm spoke again. "It was my dream to buy a home here one day. That's why I worked so hard. I wanted to raise my family here."

"I know."

Malcolm slowed down and stopped at one particular house. Owen liked the looks of it. It had a welcoming atmosphere. It was two stories tall with attic windows, and what appeared to be a sizable backyard.

His truck pulled into the driveway. Stunned, Owen watched as he got out of the truck and sprinted to the passenger door. The other him pulled open the door and helped Cristina get out.

Owen stepped back in shock. She was visibly pregnant. He didn't breath as he watched himself escort her to the door. The other Owen – the happy one – opened the front door and then carried a laughing Cristina into the house.

Rain began to fall. A car pulled into the driveway. The other Owen jumped out and sprinted to the passenger door. He opened an umbrella and sheltered Cristina as she stepped out. Cristina opened the door behind hers. She carefully reached into the back seat. When she emerged, she was carrying a car seat.

Owen swallowed, tears in his eyes, as Cristina carried the car seat into the house, the other Owen behind her. He exhaled after the front door closed.

The rain turned into snow. The car pulled into the driveway again. Owen ran to Cristina again, and she reached in and brought out another car seat. Tears slid down his face as the other Owen escorted Cristina to the front door. The door shut behind them.

His father turned to him. "Enjoy yourself."

In a blink Malcolm was gone and everything went grey.


	2. Chapter 2

_In the Now_

"Huh?" Owen sat up, eyes wild. "Dad?"

He looked around and frowned. This was not his bedroom or even his apartment. Sunlight behind the curtains offered some illumination.

Confused, Owen stumbled out of the bed. He went into the adjoining bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like himself. He thought about the dead Owen he had seen in the fog and shuddered.

Cautiously, he stepped out into the hallway. He was in a house. Very slowly, he descended the stairs to a cozy living room.

In a flash, he remembered that strange dream with his father. Quickly, Owen crossed the room to the foyer. He yanked open the front door and sprinted to the sidewalk. There, he turned around and looked at the house. It was the same one as in the dream.

"_Are you drunk?!_" Cristina was standing in the front door, hands on her hips. She stared at him, astonished. Owen looked down at himself. He was wearing a t-shirt and boxer briefs and nothing else, not even socks. Blushing, he sprinted to the door.

Cristina shook her head. "Could you please wait until I have some coffee before ... going for a jog in your underwear?"

Owen drank in the sight of her. She was beautiful, lit by the morning light. Stunning. So graceful in her moves, even as she looked at him in exasperation.

"Sorry." He glanced down at their hands, both wearing a wedding ring. He grinned at her, foolishly.

Her expression turned to disbelief. "What?"

Impulsively, he leaned in and kissed her. Instinctively, she kissed him back, before sighing. "Well, at least you're in a better mood." She turned and walked away.

Eagerly, Owen followed her. He gasped when he entered the dining room.

A black-haired little girl was sitting on a booster seat, She looked up at him and his heart leapt. Her resemblance to Cristina was striking. She smiled at him before biting into an apple slice.

"Could you feed McHungry over there?" Cristina handed him a bowl and a spoon.

Owen's eyes widened. Sitting in a high chair was a tiny girl with wild red hair. She could not be older than six months. Slowly, he walked over to her and pulled up a chair. He dipped the spoon into warm rice cereal and brought it to her mouth.

Her brown eyes twinkled mischievously as she shook her head. Her mouth was firmly closed.

"Come on," Owen said, softly. She responded by folding her arms across her chest.

"Do the choo choo!" The black-haired girl piped up.

"The choo choo?" Owen flashed back to watching his mother feed Megan, and the countless neighborhood children she babysat.

He turned back to the baby and held up the spoon. Feeling foolish, he spoke. "Here comes the choo-choo train ...?"

The tiny redhead opened her mouth and he carefully fed her. She swallowed, then giggled. Her brown eyes sparkled.

Cristina entered the room, eyes on her phone. "Do you want to keep the girls today or shall I drop them off at daycare?"

"I'll keep them," he said without hesitation. Then he looked at them and began to second-guess himself. _I don't even know their names. I don't know what is happening._

The red-haired girl grunted impatiently. She looked expectantly at the bowl he was holding.

Grinning,he dipped the spoon into the food. "Here's another choo-choo train!"

"Okay," Cristina sighed. She kissed the cheek of the older girl, before doing the same to the baby. She shot him another exasperated look before leaving.

Owen looked around the room and shook his head. What was he doing here? Everything felt so right, so natural ... but it was a dream ... wasn't it?

oOoOo

After the baby had been fed, Owen released her from the high chair and held her. He carefully looked at her eyes for any signs of sleepiness. She was old enough to sit up on her own and to be fed. Was she supposed to take a nap now?

She looked past him. He followed her gaze into the living room. Owen spotted a playpen that had been folded up and stowed out of the way, just like he would have done. He carefully placed the baby on the floor, then set up the playpen. She looked puzzled when he placed her inside it.

"Here's Mr. Gus." The older girl opened a nearby toy box and pulled out a stuffed dog. She dropped it in the playpen and the baby happily grabbed it.

"Thank you." Owen drank in the sight of the girls. They were both so beautiful. He desperately wished he knew what to call them.

"Let's play a fun game," Owen said. "Let's say everyone's names!"

He pointed to himself. "I'm ..."

The older girl pointed at him. "You're Daddy!"

He pointed at the baby.

"That's Sister!"

Owen blinked. "What do Mommy and Daddy call her?"

"Scrappy!"

Owen decided to be blunt. "What is her name?"

"Mallory!" The girl clapped her hands.

"Yes! She's Mallory!" Owen paused. _Mall_ory...

He shook his head and smiled before pointing at the older girl. "And you're ..."

"Smart!" She smiled. "Mommy says so!"

He chuckled. "What does Daddy call you?"

"Sweetie!"

"Okay sweetie ... who are you?"

"I'm smart!" She grinned.

Owen grimaced. "What is your name?"

She stopped twirling and stood still, her face scrunching up. He frowned. Had he scared her by not knowing who she was?

His own nose scrunched up as a certain odor filled the air. "You're not potty-trained," Owen sighed.

oOoOo

After he'd changed the older girl and dressed her, she ran downstairs. He looked around her bedroom. It was neat and orderly. Someone had painted the walls in precise pink and white stripes.

His eyes went to a framed cross-stitched work of art. His mother would have made it. _Chloe Hunt_. Her birthdate was stitched onto the fabric ... she was born almost five years into his future ...

"Chloe," he said softly. He left the room and looked around the second floor. It was disturbing to realize he had woken up in what looked like a guest bedroom. How could he be married and not sleeping in the same bed as Cristina? He went into the master bedroom. Quickly, he got dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt.

Owen looked around some more. In the nursery, he examined the oxygen tank and the sleep apnea equipment. He looked around and saw that she also had a cross-stitched piece with her name and birthdate. He had a hunch that Mallory was born prematurely.

Downstairs, Mallory was still playing with Mr. Gus. Chloe was lying on her stomach, tapping on a flat rectangular screen. He looked at it. She was playing some sort of game.

"Oh." he said. "That's like a giant iPhone."

She looked up at him, curiously, before turning back to the screen.

He turned his attention to the playpen. Little Mallory was lying on the floor, gnawing on her toy. Grinning, he reached in and picked her up. She smiled sweetly, laying her head against his shoulder. He sat down on the couch and savored the feeling of holding his baby.

Owen blinked. She wasn't his baby. She was ... he was in some sort of dream. He looked again at what Chloe was playing with. Still holding Mallory, he stood up and looked around. There was a calendar in the foyer. He walked over and frowned. Almost seven years had passed.

Mallory grabbed his chin, running her tiny fingers over his whiskers. He smiled. She was a beautiful child with sparkling eyes. He sat back on the couch again and looked around. What was he doing here?

Chloe growled and forcefully jabbed at the screen.

"What's wrong?" Owen leaned over to look at the brightly colored shapes that were moving around quickly.

"It won't go." She shoved the object away from her.

"Let me see." Owen carefully put Mallory back into the crib. Then he picked up the tablet. "How do I play this?"

Chloe showed him the brief mechanics of the game, matching different shapes and colors. In his shaky frame of mind, it was comforting to know that he could play a toddler's game.

"Okay. Show me where you're having trouble."

They worked their way through the game. Owen was impressed at how quickly she could move through the levels she was comfortable with. She looked the most like Cristina while she was puzzling through a difficult part. He loved looking at her.

They got to the level that had frustrated her earlier.

"Okay," Owen said. "You did a really job of getting to this level all by yourself."

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Now, what is different about this level?"

She concentrated on the screen. Then she reached out and tapped a glowing orange. It transformed into a red square. Her little face lit up. "I need that!"

"Yes!" He held up a hand. "High five!"

Grinning, she slapped his hand.

"Okay, do you think you know what you need to do next?"

Chloe nodded and tapped a strawberry.

"Good job! Just take it one step at a time."

She grinned and tapped two blueberries."

"Excellent! Do you want me to help you some more?"

"No, Daddy." Chloe took the screen from him and sat down on the floor with it.

He observed her as she finished the level on her own. She was a beautiful and smart child and he could watch her all day.

Mallory rolled over in her playpen and babbled at him.

Owen turned to Chloe. "What would you like to do now?"

"Play my game."

"Is there something we can do with Mallory?"

Chloe thought about it, then scrambled to her feet and went to the TV. She handed him a DVD of a children's show. The cover promised educational fun for infants.

"Okay." Owen started towards the TV, before changing his mind. He went into the kitchen and hunted through the cupboards until he found some microwave popcorn.

In fifteen minutes, he was back on the couch. Chloe was seated there too, holding a sippy cup full of juice. There was a bowl of popcorn between her and Owen. He held Mallory while he picked up the remote to start the show.

oOoOo

After two episodes, both of the girls were asleep. Mallory was curled up in Owen's arms, and Chloe was cuddled up against him. He didn't want to move and disturb them.

Owen blinked again. These weren't his little girls ... were they? Had he experienced more trauma that cause amnesia? No, there was the grey fog, and the other Owens, and Dad ...

He looked at the girls and gasped. _They weren't afraid of him. _They trusted him enough to fall asleep next to him and in his arms ... He was rocked to his core. In his timeline, it had only been hours since Cristina ... Owen shook his head as his breath began to quicken. He felt a panic attack looming within him and all he wanted to do was to sit here and cuddle these two beautiful girls...

A key turned in the front door. He stood up, carefully not waking up Mallory as she slept on. Tentatively, he walked to the foyer as he heard the front door open ...

His mother was standing in the doorway. She smiled brightly at him.

Owen began to shake and his breath grew ragged...

oOoOo

Evelyn Hunt was always good in a crisis. She had taken Mallory from Owen, as he collapsed, sobbing. Deftly, she settled Mallory into the playpen, put away her coat, and found a box of tissues. She guided him to sit down and rubbed his back, murmuring encouraging words.

As he began to calm down, she handed him a tissue to blow his nose.

Owen looked up at her and couldn't tear his eyes away. It had been too long since he had seen his mother. She was as warm and loving as she had been on his last leave.

"Cristina called me and said you were having a bad day," Evelyn soothed. "I thought I would come over for a visit."

He nodded, still too choked to speak.

"I know, you don't want anyone seeing you in distress, but that's when I most want to be with you..." She stroked his hair as he wiped his eyes.

Chloe stirred beside him. She yawned and opened her eyes. "Daddy?"

"Daddy's having a bad day!" Evelyn chirped. She picked up her grand-daughter. "Grandma is here to help! Are you hungry? Do you need lunch?"

Chloe reached out to Owen. He gathered her up in his arms and she sweetly kissed his cheek. "Hi Daddy."

"Hi." Owen smiled gently at her. He wondered how often she had seen him triggered. Then remembered that this ... whatever this was, it wasn't real. But he was starting to love it.

oOoOo

A few hours later, Evelyn was finishing supper preparations, and Mallory was waking up from a nap. Owen changed her diaper and dressed her in a fresh Seattle Seahawks onesie.

As he came downstairs, Chloe was still paying with blocks on the living room floor. And Cristina was pulling off her jacket as she entered the room.

Owen's heart leaped to see her again. He smiled somewhat sheepishly at her. "Hi."

"Hello." She smiled briefly at him. "Sorry I'm late, but Mrs. Beatty has a new heart that will add years to her life." Then she smiled more brightly, as Chloe ran to her. "Hello, my darling." She picked up her older daughter and kissed her cheeks. "Did you have a fun day today?"

"Uh huh," Chloe beamed. She wriggled so Cristina put her down again.

Cristina turned to Owen and opened her arms. "And how was Mallory?"

"Good." Owen gently transferred the baby to her. "She just got up from a nap."

"Hello, Cristina." Evelyn emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Thanks for coming over." Cristina briefly pulled Evelyn in for a hug, with Mallory clinging to her.

Owen smiled, to see the obvious affection between the two women. He had been hoping, one day, to bring Cristina to the home where he'd grown up ... Again, he blinked. Everything about this life seemed so natural and real ...

oOoOo

Following Cristina's cues, Owen helped her with the girls after Evelyn left. He hoped that Cristina couldn't tell that he had no knowledge of their bedtime routine. Mallory didn't want to settle down in her crib, so he rocked with her and read her a story while Cristina bathed Chloe.

Finally, Mallory was curled with her dog in her crib, snug and warm. Chloe settled down quickly and closed her eyes. Her long eyelashes were dark against her pale cheeks. Cristina turned on her night light and they left the room.

Nervously, Owen glanced at Cristina. She had been mad at him this morning and he didn't know why. There was the matter of him waking up in the guest bedroom ...

"Come on." Cristina took his hand and led him into the guest bedroom. She sat down on the bed and indicated that he should join her, so he did.

Cristina sighed. "Have I been too hard on you?"

Surprised, Owen shook his head.

"Okay." She took his left hand and began to stroke it. "I know it's rough for you, with Nathan being at work-"

Shocked, Owen pulled his hand back and stared at her. She didn't look surprised.

"I love you." Her voice was low and steady. "I love you and the life that we have built together and you have got to get your attitude under control and deal with Nathan's presence. You're suffering."

He looked down at the floor.

"I just want ... " Cristina sighed again. "I want you to be happy again. And I'm sorry if I'm being a bitch but I'm worried about you. I know that you don't want to go through therapy again, but ... I really think that you need to, Owen."

Owen lifted his head to look at her. He had been through therapy?

"Evelyn called me this afternoon," Cristina confided. "After lunch, when you were putting the girls down for their naps. She told me that you'd ... had an episode."

Embarrassed, he looked down again.

"And I want you to know that I support you and I love you and I am on your side." Her fingers reached out and lightly touched his chin. "I can't breathe without you..."

She leaned in and kissed his neck. Her touch was warm and soothing. Tentatively, he turned towards her and she kissed him.

The first touch of her lips was gentle. The second was heated, her mouth opening. Instinctively, he slid his tongue against hers, and the air grew heated.

Smiling, she grabbed his t-shirt and helped him pull it off. "I'm going to show you how much I want you in my life." She shoved at him until he laid back and her hands went to his belt.

Head spinning, Owen let her take the lead. This wasn't like their first time, which had been so shy and tender and profoundly loving. What was happening now was ... amazing.

Bold and sensuous, Cristina thrilled him. She demonstrated an intimate knowledge of his body and what his preferences were. She knew just how to lick and nibble and tease. She was spectacular. Her body was magnificent. He explored every inch of her all over again, once again using his mouth to praise her.

Owen's blood was fierce as he pounded into her. This was rough and hot and yet as loving as their first time. Every touch had assured him that she loved him, and he had made sure she knew he loved her too.

Finally, they laid down on the bed, panting together. She reached for his hand and laughed, to see him wiped out. "You'll sleep well tonight!"

His smile faded at the word "sleep".

"Hey." Her hand gently clasped his. "I made you sleep here last night because I was mad at you. Which may have been a mistake ..."

"No it wasn't." Owen looked up at the ceiling. "Not if ... I had a ..."

"You had a panic attack today, and you punched Nathan yesterday, and your emotions are going out of control." She kissed his hand. "I don't like being alone in our bed, and I really don't want to invoke the frying pan clause."

He frowned. Frying pan? He punched Nathan? Nathan probably deserved it.

"Please call Dr. Wyatt or go to the vet center, just do something again?" She kissed his lips. "Don't you want to come back to our bed?" Cristina ran her hand over his bare chest, her meaning clear.

"I want to be in bed with you," Owen said, truthfully.

"Good!" Cristina kissed him one last time. "Now, sleep well and I'll see you in the morning."

He watched her gather up her clothes and leave the room. Just as she had left the on call room, about twenty hours and years ago.

Sighing, he went into the attached bathroom and looked at his reflection. Suddenly everything shifted and began to make sense. "Therapy," he told the mirror. "I need to go to therapy to have this life. I have to _choose_ this life."

"That's right." His father was standing behind him, reflected in the mirror. The room was filling with grey fog.

Owen looked down. "I'm not going to remember this, am I?"

"You're going to wake up and call the psychiatrist and you're going to work your way through your trauma, because if you don't, you will never have_ this_ life."

"I don't want to go back."

"You have to do the work to get here." His father's voice was gentle.

Owen sighed. "Can I see them one more time?"

"Of course." Silently, he walked ahead of him. Together they looked at Mallory, sleeping in her crib.

"I can't wait to watch her grow up," Owen said, stroking her red hair.

They moved on to Chloe's room. He leaned over and kissed her forehead as she slept.

They walked to the master bedroom. Owen turned to his father. "I want to go in alone."

"Of course." He smiled, quietly. "She's my favorite of your possible wives."

"Who-" Owen shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

Softly, he crept into the room. Cristina was sound asleep, not moving. He checked her pulse to make sure she was merely asleep. Her steady heartbeat reassured him.

"I'm going to do everything for you," Owen whispered. "I want this life. It's going to hurt like hell because I don't want to talk about what happened. But you will never, ever, feel my hands on your neck again." He lifted her hand and kissed it, before placing it on the covers. "I'll see you again, I swear it."

Reluctantly, he stepped back, into the fog. His father was waiting for him. Silently, they left the house and started walking.

Malcolm spoke. "Maybe I didn't get to teach you all that I needed to, but you figured out some things on your own. Like, mistakes are how you learn. You've got this, Owen. You can make the changes that you need to. Just pick up the phone."

"I really need to know something," Owen said. "What happened to Megan?"

"You'll find out soon," his father said.

"Can't you ... summon her?" Owen gestured to the fog around them.

"No," Malcolm replied. His eyes were amused. "Because she's not dead."

Before Owen could say anything, everything went grey again.


	3. Chapter 3

_In the Past_

Owen woke up, slowly. He looked around at the dim light coming into his bedroom. For some reason, it looked grey. He felt Seattle must be particularly foggy today.

He sat up, then swung his legs over the side of his bed. He looked at the nightstand, where Dr. Wyatt's business card was.

Sighing, he picked it up. It was 3.5 inches by 2 inches. Somehow it felt like he was standing at a crossroads, when really, he was just holding paper and ink.

Owen rubbed his eyes. Yesterday had been terrible, with the choking, and Cristina's justifiable fear. She was gone from his life when they had really only been beginning ...

He wanted her back. He wanted to build a life with her, to be there in forty years. And to make that happen, he needed to do one thing.

Owen reached out and unplugged his cell phone. Holding the card in his right hand, he began to dial Dr Wyatt's number.

_In the Now_

Nathan cheerfully waved as Mrs. Beatty was wheeled through the hallway by one of her sons. She was doing remarkably well, post-transplant. He'd been a good cardio surgeon before coming to Seattle Grace. Collaborating with Cristina Yang had made him better, and Mrs. Beatty's quick recovery was part of that. He turned back to the nurses station where he had been filling out forms.

"Why – hello Dr. Hunt!" A nurse said behind him. "It's good to see you again."

Nathan gripped his pen and tried to concentrate on the task before him.

"Hello Nathan." Owen's voice was quiet. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Nathan turned around. The other man looked chagrined.

"Okay," Nathan exhaled. They moved to the nearest supply closet and closed the door.

"I'm sorry," Owen said. "I'm sorry I punched you ... I'm sorry that I haven't handled things in the best way."

"Oh." Surprised, Nathan considered Owen's words.

Owen half-smiled, nervously. "And Mom is planning a family dinner this weekend, and she wants you to be there."

"You're okay with that?"

Owen nodded.

"You're okay with me speaking with Ma again?" Nathan pressed. "And your daughters will be there too?"

"Yes." Owen looked down at the floor. "I'm, um, seeing someone about managing my emotions. I won't punch you again."

"I'd like that." Nathan watched Owen struggling for words. "Hey mate, good for you. I know you're not much of a talker."

Relieved, Owen looked up at him again and smiled ruefully.

Nathan extended his right hand and they shook.

"Good for you," Nathan repeated. "I bet your dad would be proud of you if he could see you now."

Surprisingly, Owen smiled. "You know, I think he can."

**The end. Thanks for reading! And thanks to Lovemesomeowen for the beta reading!**


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